Disorientation
by Solitary Shadow
Summary: Macavity muses, thinking about the one his mind keeps wandering to. And no, it's not Demeter, Bombalurina, Misto or Munkustrap. This may be... a bit... disturbing.


**Disclaimer:** CATS the Musical is the brainchild of ALW, and also copyright to RUG. The original poems/lyrics are copyright to T.S Eliot, who was a genius but is currently pushing up the daisies.

You can blame Hallowe'en sweets for this. This randomly popped into my head... and I wrote it because it seemed to good for the idea to rot inside my head. But the result was a rather weird... and twisted... oneshot... thing. I'm not sure if this has ever been done before, or if I have made this pairing even work. I worked really hard to get the characters right, but it may not be so. It's my first time writing about Macavity, so he might sound OOC. Also, the narrative changes from first person to third, and back throughout the story. All the narrative in first person are Macavity's, just to let you know.

If I have managed to mentally scar you in any way, do please let me know. x-x

* * *

I sit here, watching the sunset, as I always do every day. The colour reminds me of myself. Fiery, red, wild and ruthless, with a strong liking for blood. There is also a certain amount of warmth in sunsets, but I no longer associate myself with things like that. I gave up warmth a long time ago.

And I don't miss it.

I like being cold. My heart is permanently frozen now, and nothing can melt it. Not anymore. It doesn't matter to me; I actually enjoy the fact. Having a cold heart helps when you're in a position like mine.

Although, I must admit, I've been questioning the truth of that statement recently.

I remember the times when I belonged to the Jellicle tribe. According to some adult cats at the time, I was a 'boisterous, cruel and bratty kitten' back then. Come to think of it, not much has changed since I was young. The adults didn't care much for me, and just for the record, I don't think many of the kittens did either.

But I do have positive memories about one adult.

He was the only one who had cared, and although he did tell me off now and then, he wasn't as blunt in judging me as the others.

All that was changed when I was banished, of course. But I would... I would hesitate if I was to do anything to him, even now. To hurt the only one that cared about me seems rather extreme.

Which is damned stupid... I _am_ the Napoleon of Crime. The monster of depravity. I'm not supposed to care about anyone's fate, least of all the Jellicles. But I do, and it's driving me crazy. I'm beginnng to wonder if I'm starting to care about that particular adult tom a bit more than it is comfortable. A tom. A Jellicle tom, who's much older than me and considers me a great enemy.

Maybe I'm off my head. Maybe the lack of good queens in my life is driving me towards the alternative.

I wonder if that means I'm not the monster everyone takes me for...

* * *

Skimbleshanks strolled down the corridor of the Midnight Mail, as always. Patrolling the corridors was his main job - any fuss or mischief and it would be sorted out immediately. He sighed and rubbed his temples; only a few hours to go before he saw Jenny again, and take a decent nap.

His musings were only interrupted when he heard a scuffle of noise from the compartment just in front of him.

"Leave me alone!" A squeaky voice sounded from inside.

'A kitten? Who is it?' The Railway Cat thought, carefully edging his way to the door of the compartment. 'Or is it a mistake of mine?'

"Look, this little pipsqueak wants us to leave her alone," Another voice, low and rough, sneered. "No chance of that, eh, boys? Just when we were having some serious fun, too..." There was a chorus of wild laughter at this.

"Let's get down to business, shall we?"

"I'm afraid not." A cold voice, laced with a hint of Scottish accent said quietly behind the gang. The 'leader' looked around to see the orange tom standing, the compartment door thrown open.

Skimble observed the gang. Three Pollicles, he noted with disgust. The filthy creatures. Pushed up against the wall was a young, terrified kitten, quite obviously the victim of some cruel plot against her. As a father himself, his protective instincts flared up and he tensed, ready for battle if needed.

"And pray, who are you?" The leader of the Pollicles questioned, his eyes narrowed as he stepped towards the tom. To his mild surprise, the orange tabby did not back down or shrink away.

"I know him," Another member of the gang piped up. "He's the cat that looks after the train here. He's always around."

"I suggest you stop whatever you're doing and leave." Skimble said calmly, but his eyes were blazing. "I do not wish to harm any of you." The Pollicles all snickered at that.

"Oh, yes? And how exactly do you plan to take us all on?"

"It's not about how the fight goes on, it's about the noise. One of the porters happen to be around here." Skimble could see the huge black dogs back down a little at his words. "Leave. I will not tell you again."

"C'mon, boss... Bertrend..." One of the Pollicles muttered. "I wouldn't fancy some human snooping around here..." Bertrend looked as if he might argue, but one look at the angry look on the orange tom's face was enough. Growling, he stalked out of the compartment with his gang, and was out of sight in seconds. Skimble watched them leave, and then turned to the tiny kitten, who was still trembling.

"It's alright now." He assured her with a kind smile. "They won't hurt you again."

"Thank you." The kit whispered, and scampered away. Vaguely, Skimble could hear a queen's voice, exclaiming, 'Where have you been? I've been worried sick! Are you alright?'

"Kittens." He chuckled quietly, and strolled out once more, glad that he had sorted out yet another mischief.

* * *

It's bloody annoying. My henchrats are no use at all - they've failed me yet again.

Overall, this has been a totally rubbish, profitless _crap_ of a day.

The only thing that stops wanting to kill something is the sunset, but even that's diminishing, and I can see the Sirius star twinkling already. That star's always bright, shining above London, keeping watch in the night.

It's kind of ironic, really; I'm a_ cat_. I'm getting mesmerized by a star that's part of a _dog_ constellation. Sometmes I really do wonder if what the Jellicles used to say to me is right after all, and if I really do have Pollicle blood in my veins.

The only thing apart from all that that keeps me sane is _him_.

I shake my head and run down the building. I'll just go over to the railway station to see if his train's arrived. It should have; he likes the train to be always in time. That's the only one thing I can't really stick about him - he's disgustingly obsessed with everything being tidy and organized. But besides that, as I said, the thought of him keeps me sane.

Ah, here I am now. I can see the station just in front of me. I didn't realize I was walking so fast. Only another alleyway to pass, and I'll be there. But all this - it's a bit crazy, yes. Going down to the station, a place which has nothing whatsoever to do with me, to just get a glimpse of a Jellicle tom? That is pure insane. But no matter, I'm close to the station, and although I'm repeating to myself that this is pointless, I'm not about to stop.

I am Macavity, after all. And the great Napoleon of Crime _always_ finishes what he intends to do.

* * *

"Ah, what a fine evening." Skimble sighed, walking down the alleyway that led to the junkyard. "It's been a whole week already since I've seen Jenny-"

He was cut off by someone roughly grabbing him by the collar and bashing him against the wall. The tom didn't even have time to cry out in pain; the hand, or rather paw, of the 'someone' closed around his mouth, rapidly stopping him from making a noise of any kind. Through his muddled vision, he could see that the very same gang of Pollicles in the train had cornered him.

"You dared to humiliate me," The leader, 'Bertrend' snarled. "And I don't forgive easily. Neither do I forget. It doesn't matter a bit to me if you're a cat who has authority in the train." He shook Skimble vigorously by the collar. "Vengence is sweet."

"So all three of you conspired and followed me here just to take on one ageing Jellicle tom?" The orange tabby said with disgust. "You sicken me."

Bertrend's eyes darkened at that, and he pushed Skimble further into the wall at his remark. "So you're a Jellicle, huh? That explains your lippy attitude. You Jellicles are all the same." He raised his fist. "You'll pay for this!"

Skimble closed his eyes and ground his teeth, preparing for the blow. But it never came.

He opened his eyes, and saw that Bertrend no longer faced him. The black dog's mouth hung open, looking at something beyond the orange tom, and as Skimble watched they mouthed two words; _The Napoleon._

Instantly, the gang of Pollicles fled and were out of sight in a matter of seconds.

The Railway Cat stared in confusion, wondering what that was all about - but then it clicked. His eyes widened and a small groan escaped him as he realized that instead of facing the Pollicles, he was left with something much, much worse.

Reluctantly, he turned to the one standing behind him, his body tense. There was no escape now.

He had to fight or die.

The tension in the air was thick as butter, as Skimbleshanks faced Macavity.

* * *

It _is_ fortunate that I looked in the alleyway instead of heading towards the station. I figured he might be gone... but I was going to try out the station anyway, before I caught sight of him in the alleyway. Three Pollicles were surrounding him, and judging by the way the creatures were all growling, they were probably going to beat him up within an inch from death. So I just walked in the scene, and Everlasting Cat, they were gone. Cowards.

But now I have to face _him_ now. His body's tense and there's an expression of pure hate in his face.

And it hurts to see that his hatred is directed at me.

That _is_ strange, I know. Hatred is something I expect to see in everyone that faces me. Everyone except for _him_.

"What do you want." He's ready to fight me. I can feel the sheer amount of hate in his voice. He's not going to flee from me; he's old enough to know better.

"I save your life and this is what I get? Bast, didn't the Jellicles teach you any manners when you were a kitten?"

"Your reputation drove the Pols away, not you. And do not go into the matters of the tribe." His reply is cutting. I'm not surprised, though. I step towards him, looking at him, standing his guard despite the fact I'm getting closer.

"I repeat, what do you want?" Surprisingly, there is no fear in his eyes. Well, there is fear there alright; but it's not directed towards me. He fears for his fellow Jellicles, his family, friends... his mate and kittens.

As much as I want him to, he doesn't fear _me._

"I don't want anything." My reply shocks myself, too. Of course I want something. I want to gaze upon the creature in front of me - I want him.

There is perfection in this world, and I'm looking at it right now. That's all I want.

"I don't believe you," He snarls. "Why would you be here otherwise?"

"You honestly think I'm only here when I want something?" I know this is mostly true, but tonight's not the case.

"Whenever you make an appearence to the junkyard, something always goes missing or things go wrong. Need I say more?" His glare is intimidating, I should say. Who wold have thought that of such a normally calm, quiet tom? "I would have sooner faced those dogs than you."

"You prefer to be torn apart by the Pollicles rather than converse with me?" I reply silkily. "Not much of a choice, is it?"

Those glass-green eyes are staring at me now.

"You're such a _damned_ Pollicle yourself." He spits out the words.

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

He isn't replying. He cannot win this argument and he knows it.

I'm going to take this chance to move closer to him. Too close perhaps, for him... but just right for me.

"What... what are you going to do... to me?" He whispers, the fight in him mostly gone. He's backing away now, but it's futile; he can't escape me.

"... Nothing..." I reply, continuing my advance. I'm extremely close to him now, our whiskers are almost touching.

"At least, not at the moment..."

I can see the older tom in front of me shift uncomfortably, wanting to get away but unable to. It feels... right, for some reason. Something in me has been awakened, and I'm not sure what it is.

Feelings?

The very thing I vowed not to show... seems that I can't keep the promise after all.

I pin him to the wall, our faces still so very close. All the fight's gone out of him; he's just struggling, trying to free himself.

"Le-let me go!" He gasps. I don't reply. Instead, I take hold of his face and press my lips to his, overcome by a sudden desire. I _want_ this tom for _myself_. Even though I'm aware that he already has a mate he loves, and kittens as well, that _isn't _going to stop me.

"Bast's sake!" He's pulled away, turning his head away from me, but his cheeks are pink. I take his face in my paws again and give him another kiss despite his refusal, more passionately and... almost desperately.

He struggles against me for another second or two, but then he gives up and lets me do what I want. He definitely isn't kissing back, but he isn't resisting either. I take my time, slowly working my way down his face to his neck. I can hear him moaning softly at this, and look up.

"Ma... Maca...vity..." He whispers quietly, still breathless. I'm most shocked by this - that's the first time a Jellicle has called my name for something other than hate or jeering.

"Shhhh..." I'm soothing him now. Inwardly I'm amazed at what I'm doing, but it feels so natural. Unlike all the times I've been with a street queen. I gently - yes, gently - slide my paws down his chest, keeping my claws laid back as far as possible as not to hurt him. That has the desired effect, and he's submitted to me now.

"Shh, Skimble." I call him by his shortened name, that sounds more friendly and relaxed. He's looking very drowsy, all the strength gone. I nuzzle into his neck, wrapping my arms around him, and grin as he returns the somewhat bizzare embrace.

Maybe having feelings aren't that bad.

* * *

... Eh...

What in Heaviside...?

Critiques are appreciated. Reviews are always welcome. Thank you for reading - I just hope I haven't freaked anyone out badly... x-x;;


End file.
